The Binkle and the Catawampus Compass (Binkles and Magic) (14 page)

“Layda loves music more than anything. It’s her special gift, one she’s eager to share. I learned many of my songs from her—but she sings much better than I can. Layda fancies herself a muse, and who’s to say she isn’t. As long as I’ve known her, she likes to travel around sending melodic inspiration to musicians, composers, dancers, and singers. Once in a while I’ll hear someone sing or play a tune, and I’ll say to myself, ‘Layda’s been there.’”

“Don’t be sad while I’m gone. You and I are never separated, even when we’re far apart. Our hearts are connected, so when your heart is happy I know it. When you’re sad I know it. And when you’re afraid I know that, too. I can tell what you feel.”   

“I’ll be alright, Adah, just a little sad. Where’s that place with the unborn babies? Is it even on this planet?”

 “Not really. Where I’ll be is very close and very far, since it’s not in the same dimension as this one. You know something about different dimensions already. Here, where Grikkl and I live, is a place where several other dimensions connect up with your human world.”

“Could I ever be able to go to there?”

“Who can tell?” she beamed with her twinkling warmth. “But now, I want to sing.”

Adah sang a song he never heard before—one she sang to the unborn babes. The melody took Jeep back to babyhood and all its loving feelings. He experienced himself as a tiny baby once more, held snugly by his mother. No words, no ideas, just feelings—happy ones. Everything felt good—there was no cause for fear or sadness. All was well. All was taken care of. Just love. That was what he felt—All he knew. And that was enough.

Afterwards, Jeep confided to her, “I miss my mom all the time. But I’m going to get to see her soon. Chris is taking me. He promised.”

“Wonderful! A mother’s love has its own magic. Let her know how much you love her, and let love do its work,” was her wise advice.

Finally, Jeep could bear to speak of favorite memories when his mom was still home—like cooking together, and walking barefooted on the wet, sandy beach. He was pleased to share special memories, even though such happy times didn’t happen anymore.

Adah patted him, “I know, Jeep, I know—but they’re not gone for good.”

~~~

Too soon to suit him, it was time for Jeep to return home
.
Grikkl handed him a package of faduki cookies and hugged him goodbye.
That’s a first with him. I wonder what’s changed.

“I can’t wait to come back. I keep getting better at finding binkles.”
And now I know I can get back again.

“Good, Laddie, no doubt you will. But I think you’re ready for something more. I’ve got an important assignment for you—a test.”

“I don’t like tests. Do I have to?”

 “Aye. You’ve got enough spunk to do it—no question. I want you to convince a Mr. Slade on Market Street to give the zoo the ravine that runs along its west side. That property would make a great natural sanctuary for some of the zoo’s animals.”

“An adult would have to do that. I’m only a kid.”

“Tut, tut... The first trial on a quest, which is really a kind of test, is how eagerly you accept the mission. One must take it on willingly and without delay. Otherwise, you could fail the test before you begin. No excuses. No logical reasons why it won’t work. That closes the door to a seemingly impossible outcome.” He pointed at Jeep. “What say you?”

“You’re sending me on a quest. So I’ll do it. Like the knights of old.

“Right answer, Laddie. And I think you’re the right person.” Grikkl nodded wisely, as though he knew more than he was telling. In farewell Lulu spoke to Jeep’s heart, in ways more trustworthy than words can ever be. Jeep was happy as he held her and fondled her fur.

Like before, her cuddling was the last thing on his mind when he went to sleep. And the next morning he awoke in his own bed back home, still dreaming of her.

A package of faduki cookies rested on one side of him. And MeToo curled against him on the other.

Chapter 12—

THE DISTURBING VISIT TO ELKHORN

On the eagerly awaited day, Jeep and Chris drove nearly five miles into the countryside, before they arrived at the hospital. Jeep was too excited to sleep the night before. The closer they came, the happier Jeep got—and the sadder Chris got.

“Chris, there’s so much to tell her. So much catching up to do. Have you been telling Mom about me?”

“Jeep, don’t expect too much. She’s not the way you remember.”

“I know. But she’s still my mom. Nothing can change that.”

“For the tenth time, we aren’t going to a hospital, but to a mental institution.”

Jeep didn’t understand the difference, but it would become clear soon enough.
I only care that I’m about to
see her
,
to hug and kiss her. This nightmare will be over.

Chris turned off the main road. Elkhorn Institute’s sign was painted in brown letters on a sky-blue background. All Jeep could see beyond it was the tall fence that cut the facility off from the rest of the world. A guard at the gate stopped them. Chris answered his questions before the guard opened the gate to let their car in.

Once inside the tall fence, a wall of evergreens was planted so close together they blocked Jeep’s view until the car almost reached the main building. Jeep’s first sight of Elkhorn gave him the willies. It was large, dark, and uninviting—like a military fortress. The doors and windows had bars on them. He couldn’t find a single note of cheeriness in the entire scene.

From the moment he stepped out of the car, Jeep felt chilled. The person who signed them in at the entrance acted more like a guard than a medical assistant.

“It feels cold here—almost like a jail,” he whispered to Chris. “Maybe it’s yucky so people hurry to get well so they can go home.” His words seemed hollow. Idle talk couldn’t cut through the depressing mood of the place.

Once they signed in, Chris held back. “I’ll wait here. Jeep, you have to do this yourself. Take all the time you need.”

“You sure? I thought you were going to come.” Chris shook a decisive no.

Jeep followed an orderly through the long corridors. Along the way, they passed shuffling people with far-away expressions, obviously patients, and others wearing medical garb going about their responsibilities. Nobody smiled or seemed to notice their passing by.

At Helen Parker’s room the orderly held the door open for him and left. The room seemed as dreary as everything else he’d seen so far. Helen’s home had always been decorated with cheerful pictures and needlework. This room lacked any of her personal touches, except for a bulletin board that showed recent pictures of him and Chris.

Jeep saw a woman slumped sideways in a padded armed chair. She appeared to be much smaller than he remembered his mom being, like she’d shrunk. The faded hospital gown hung so loosely it exaggerated her skinniness. Her face lacked expression of any kind.

He called out, “Mom, mom... it’s me, Jeep.”

No reaction. No recognition.

He walked over to her. “Mom!” he almost yelled—as if that would make her pay attention. Her eyes were open without focus, without showing any interest in his being there.

In an instant the truth hit him with devastating force.
Ohmygosh,
that woman resembles mom, but doesn’t have her personality. I’ve pictured this moment so often, but not like this.

To say that Jeep was disappointed wasn’t even close. He was dejected, despondent, devastated, and miserable, not to mention broken hearted. His eyes stung with unshed tears, and his shoulders sagged in defeat.

No! This can’t be happening! Nothing I’ve waited for is going to happen.
I have to go, to get out of here.

Yet he also wanted to tell her, “I still love you and think about you every day.”
What can I say to this woman so far-away? I can’t find the right words—any words. Maybe binkles¼ but how?

Jeep pulled a chair up close to hers so he could sit facing her.
It has to be enough for me to touch your hand, even if you can’t tell.
He clung to the simple, trusting love he felt, and ached for it to reach her. Not knowing anything else to do, he just sat beside her, loving the woman who didn’t know he was there.

       Jeep held both her hands with both of his. Hers were warm but limp. Around her slender wrist was fastened a bracelet that hospitals use to identify patients. It said, HELEN THOMPSON. Jeep idly rubbed his finger along the letters.

 “Yup, it’s Mom. It says so right here,” he muttered.
It’s odd that something as small as an ID bracelet hangs so heavily from your bony wrist.
Jeep lightly stroked her delicate, unmoving hands, taking what comfort he could from touching her. He lost track of time, as he sat as quietly as she did.

After a while he started to talk. Not like he expected her to listen or react. Just because it was familiar to talk to her like he used to. He spoke in a rambling way of a time they went camping together. Not like a long hike or anything, but they got to sleep in a tent. They stayed up late and watched the stars come out. And they ate snacks in their sleeping bags—not like they’d ever do at home. And who would care if they dropped crumbs—it would be a treat for some bird or squirrel to come upon?

He and she tried to tell scary stories to each other, but first she started laughing, and that got him started. They kept laughing so long and hard that they couldn’t consider the “scary” stories anything but funny. Those were the good times. And now as he told the almost-forgotten story, that special camp-out was real again because he was sharing it with her all over again. Maybe she couldn’t remember it—but he could. For both of them.

~~~

About half an hour after he arrived, a nurse came to guide him back. Her name tag said, “Helga Schmidt, R.N.” She had a grandmotherly way about her and seemed sincerely concerned about him.

“This has to be a shock for you. I’m sorry this visit was a waste of your time.” She nodded toward Helen, “She never recognizes any of us, either. Or her husband.”

“Do you think she’ll ever get better?” he asked.

“I’ve seen stranger things—so it’s always possible. Only time will tell.”

Jeep idly patted his mother’s hand, as reluctant to leave as he’d been to stay. He bent over and pressed his lips to her cheek—not quite a kiss. He held it for a long interval. Not quite sure what to feel—or if he dared to feel anything at all. This was his mother. The one he loved—had always loved. Whose love he never doubted. And now she was only a shadow. Not able to give or receive love.

A tear leaked down the side of his nose, silently betraying his disappointment. He brushed it away with the back of his hand and saw that he’d smeared it on her cheek. He wiped it away with great gentleness, and made a final effort to kiss her goodbye. In that instant Helen’s arm swung up widely and her hand pulled at Jeep’s earlobe. The next second it collapsed into the non-moving lump it was before—nothing to indicate that it had ever moved.

She pulled my earlobe!!! She pulled my earlobe!
Jeep silently screamed as his heart filled with joy.
She recognized me! She knew it was me!

“Did you see that?” Jeep asked the nurse?

“Yes, but it doesn’t mean anything. Just a reflex, not like she intended to touch you.”

Jeep wasn’t persuaded. He knew with unshakable certainty that his caring presence and touch had somehow reached his mother. And she responded to him through touch as well—the only way she could.

Though she did nothing more, Jeep got her message. When he was very small, her gentle pulling on his earlobe had a special meaning for them. It was her private, silent signal to say, “I love you, Jeep.”

While he sat at her side, he’d done his best to accept what couldn’t be endured. But she wasn’t entirely gone. Something of her remained—even though speech wasn’t possible.
I know you’re in there, somewhere. I just have to find some way to reach you. I’ll be back and won’t give up until I find it,
he silently promised both of them.

~~~

Misery set in after Jeep got home. Except for the pull on his earlobe, the whole trip was too painful to think about. He grieved for his mom, and he grieved for himself as well. All the months of stored-up hopes had been crushed in a moment. Her expressionless image was forever tattooed in his memory. Waves of sadness kept forcing themselves into his mind.

I never doubted that she’d be home soon. Seeing her like that shows that I’ve been hanging onto a childish daydream. It’s not going to happen.

Jeep cried without being able to break it off—he couldn’t help himself.
My life may have been miserable, but until today I had hope. Now that’s dead. She’s not the person I knew.
Who knows if she’ll ever leave that awful place? When Chris said she was crazy, I didn’t think it could be so bad.
It’s bad, alright—worse than I could ever imagine
.

MeToo stuck close to him, demonstrating why he was named MeToo in the first place. A dog’s affection is a wonderful pick-me-up, but there’s only so much a dog can do for heartbreak.

Hour after hour, Jeep’s tears fell.
No,
please no!
My heart can’t stand any more.
Chris was gentle with him and finally called Louise and Anna to come lift Jeep’s spirits.

The girls sat quietly by his bed, knowing words can provide little comfort with suffering so deep. But despite their kind efforts, tears were all Jeep could muster that night.

The next morning Jeep had run out of tears, but he was too worn down to handle school or other people. Chris said, “You can stay home, but only if you stay in bed and rest.”

“That’s all I want to do, anyway. I need to be by myself.”

Mostly Jeep slept the day away. MeToo cuddled against him and bathed his face in doggie kisses. Jeep was abruptly awakened mid-afternoon by MeToo’s growls. With fears rising, he grabbed his baseball bat and tiptoed into the living room. The intruder was another dog.